Bank Heist
by Xx.Triple A.xX
Summary: Modern-day AU! Cosette is meeting a friend at the bank. Meanwhile, Police Inspector Javert is chasing a known criminal across the city. His chase culminates at the bank, where the criminal takes Cosette hostage. Unfortunately, it doesn't appear that he's thought it through very well - which isn't a good thing.
1. A Sunny Morning

**HEY HEY LOOK UP HERE:** Hey there guys! I'm back in the fandom! It's legit like I never left, right? RIGHT? (Eyes angry mob) Uhhh well, I have consolatory words for you! This is something that I've been working on for a while now; in fact, it's almost finished! So chapter updates should be quick! Trying my hand at a modern-day Les Mis AU this time; the summary basically says it all.

I love you guys and I will seriously work on some of those other fics. I will. Bear with me. :)

**DISCLAIMER:** There's a Les Mis movie coming out this year and I'm not filthy rich yet! That should be a fairly decent indicator that I don't own it, you guys. Seriously though, who is gonna go see that? I WILL BE ALL OVER THAT THING

* * *

It was a bright and sunny morning at 1463 Rue de Luce. Jean Valjean sat at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and eating sourdough toast, while his daughter Cosette clattered about in the refrigerator, humming one of the newest popular songs to herself. Valjean happened to glance up and caught sight of what she was wearing – an attractive yellow sundress, a floppy straw hat, and a rather impressive pair of 5-inch heels.

"You're rather dressed up, darling," he commented. "Are you going somewhere today?"

"Yes, Papa. Remember? I told you, I'm going to meet Eponine at the bank." Eponine was the birth daughter of the abusive foster parents from whom Valjean had rescued Cosette many years ago. She and Cosette had remained friends over the years. "We're going shopping and she needs to withdraw some money from her account."

"Ah, I see. Well, I hope you have a wonderful time," Valjean told her, watching his daughter with unconcealed fondness and admiration as she closed the fridge, a piece of fruit in her hand.

"Oh, I'm sure I will," she responded, walking across the room to give him an affectionate peck on the cheek. Straightening up, she cast a cursory glance about the kitchen. "Where is Javert?"

"Oh, he left early this morning. He said he had a lot of work to do."

"I see. Our brave inspector, working hard to keep the city safe. Well, I'm off." There was the click of her heels as they crossed the floor and a jangle as she picked her keys up off the hook by the front door.

"Drive safely," Valjean called after her. "I love you!"

"I love you too, Papa," she called back before closing the door behind her. Valjean smiled and went back to reading the paper.

* * *

Across the city, the notorious thief and vandal Jacque Rendalt skidded around a corner, coming off the street and into a narrow back alley. There was a trash can in his way, and he jumped over it, pausing briefly to shove it over before he resumed his flight.

There was hardly any kind of substantial gap between Rendalt's entrance to the alley and that of his pursuer, who cleared the trash can as though it didn't exist, his long black coat flying dramatically out behind him as he did so.

"That will add a charge of littering to your already extensive list of charges," he called after Rendalt, who had reached the wire fence at the end of the alley and was climbing it with the frantic speed born of desperation.

There was a clash as his pursuer leapt onto the fence behind him. With a startled yell, Rendalt fell over the other side of the fence and hit the ground running.

"You haven't got anywhere to go," Javert – for the pursuer was he – called after him as he, too, cleared the fence. "You're simply heading into a more public area of the city. Your arrest is imminent."

Rendalt didn't seem to hear him, or perhaps he was just ignoring him. Regardless, Javert's words proved to be true as the alley suddenly ended, opening onto a broad and very active main street. Directly across from them was one of the larger and well-known banks in the city, and it was toward this that Rendalt headed, cutting directly through the late morning traffic.

A mild profanity was all that passed Javert's lips as he followed the thief without hesitation. "Jaywalking," he called, though his words were inaudible beneath the sudden blast of car horns. "And I'm sure I can get you on several other traffic violations as well."

As they reached the other side of the street, which was now the site of several collisions, Javert put on a sudden burst of speed and was able to just brush Rendalt's jacket with his fingertips before the man lunged toward the doors of the bank and, yanking one open, rushed inside. He had swung the door so far open that Javert did not even have to touch it as he swept through after the man.

"You've nowhere to go, Rendalt," he announced flatly. The criminal was standing in the center of the lobby, clearly panicking as several of the waiting patrons offered him odd looks. "Give up now; if you try anything you can only make your situation worse."

One of the patrons gasped and stepped forward from where she had been standing by a large potter plant. "Javert!"

Startled, the inspector glanced at the girl. "Cos – _GET BACK_!" Faster than the human eye could follow, he had his gun out and trained on Rendalt, but it was too late. The man had one arm wrapped around Cosette's throat, and his other hand was pressing a small but deadly revolver to her temple.

"Now, _Inspector_ Javert," the criminal smirked, putting a sneering emphasis on his pursuer's title, "I believe the tables have turned."

* * *

**A3:** I THOUGHT I WAS OVER THIS CLIFFHANGER THING. Apparently not. Don't you all feel fortunate?

**Anonymous:** AOSDHFADFKDFALKSDF (FOAMS AT MOUTH)

**A3:** Ahaha I bet you all know who _that_ is. But let's pretend you don't and wait until the next chapter to reveal his identity!


	2. An Injured Inspector

**A/N:** WHAT what what am I doing? ACTUALLY UPDATING SOMETHING, _THAT'S WHAT_. Bet you never expected that! Bing bada boom. Someone get an extinguisher before I set this site on FIRE.

I BET YOU GUYS CAN'T TELL THAT I HAD A ROCKSTAR THIS EVENING HUH (is really pretty caffeine-sensitive)

I'm listening to Nyan Cat too dudes that really doesn't help okay. Don't do as I do. OR DO, because even if it's not really productive, it's super super fun just take my word for this okay

**CHECK OUT THIS DISCLAIMER IT RHYMES: **Roses are red! Violets are blue. I don't own Les Mis, and neither do you! BOOM, right in the heart. That's poetry for you. Gets you where it counts. Uh-huh (nod)

* * *

"This is what's going to happen," Jacque Rendalt informed the bank at large. "I'm sure one of you," this aimed at the tellers, "has pressed some kind of panic button by now, so none of you are going to leave this building until I say so. If any of you try anything stupid," he said warningly, "I will shoot this woman, and then I will shoot you and take another person hostage. You will do exactly as I say, nothing more, nothing less. Is that clear?"

"Nobody is doing anything you tell them to," Javert answered, his deeper and louder voice carrying and holding far more confidence and authority than Rendalt's. The criminal's expression contorted into a furious scowl.

"They will if they don't all want to _die_," he snarled. A woman who had been on the verge of leaving when Rendalt had taken Cosette hostage burst into tears. Javert alone remained unemotional.

"The way I see it," he said with the simple matter-of-factness of someone who is undeniably correct, "you have only as many bullets as that gun currently contains, which, judging by its size and also the fact that it is a revolver, is not many. Even if you did have extra bullets, the moment it became necessary for you to reload, I, if not someone else, would promptly attack and disarm you. There is also no guarantee that every shot you fire, or any of them for that matter, will be fatal. In short," he summarized, "this has been a foolish act brought on by desperation and you are clearly at a disadvantage in this situation."

Rendalt's lips pressed together tightly. Moving his wrist only, he flicked the gun from Cosette's head and pulled the trigger. The motion was so small, compared to the more dramatic action that Javert had been expecting, that by the time he noticed it happening it was too late.

Cosette and several other people screamed at the BANG of the gun going off, but by that time the bullet had already left the gun and torn into Javert's shoulder.

He made no sound, but his hand clenched convulsively on his gun before letting it go. It did not fall at once, his finger tangling in the trigger guard before it slid off and dropped through the air, landing with a heavy _thud_ on the floor of the bank.

"_JAVERT_!" Cosette shrieked, trying to fight out of Rendalt's grasp only to stop immediately as he pressed the gun back to her head. Apart from dropping his own weapon, Javert had not moved, but when he spoke his voice possessed a slight shudder.

"F – five bullets left," he bit out, suppressing any further stammering with an effort. "At the most."

No one said anything, and a tense silence reigned until the sound of sirens could be heard faintly from outside. Then Rendalt snapped into action.

"Everyone into the vault," he snapped. "Right now."

No one moved. Rendalt snarled and aimed his revolver at one of the tellers, and everyone promptly leapt into action.

As they moved toward the vault, Rendalt dragged Cosette over to where Javert's gun lay on the floor and picked it up, flashing a triumphant smile at the inspector as he did so.

"Five bullets, hmm?" he taunted him, a smirk lingering on his lips as he tucked the other gun into his belt. "Come along then, _Inspector_."

Rendalt herded the tellers, other employees, and customers into the vault. Javert fully expected to be incarcerated along with them, but apparently Rendalt had other plans.

"Not you," he told Javert, pulling Cosette back by her hair as he aimed the revolver at the inspector. "I want you to lock them in."

Glancing at him, Javert stepped forward and dragged the door shut, then spun the wheel attached to the door until it clicked. Rendalt nodded, satisfied.

"Good. Now, both of you, come with me."

He marched Javert ahead of him as they moved back toward the lobby. Cosette watched the inspector from behind, concern surmounting the fear in her eyes.

"Javert, are you alright?" she inquired worriedly. She knew he'd been shot, yet he had shown no visible signs of being in pain. Rendalt scoffed.

"Of course he's not alright. I shot him. And I'll do it again," he threatened menacingly. Javert said nothing.

In truth, he was not alright, and he knew it. Out of necessity, he had learned some basic anatomy and first aid. Therefore, he knew that not only was his wound very bad, he also knew that if it was not treated soon there was a distinct possibility that it would not be able to get treated at all. However, he was also fully aware that Rendalt would never permit him to treat himself. The man was desperate, and a criminal, and the person who had shot him in the first place. Even if Javert _were_ disposed to ask for assistance from a criminal, there was a greater likelihood that Rendalt would finish him off than one of the man actually helping him.

So he remained silent, and Rendalt smirked, and Cosette worried.

* * *

**A3:** First off, I would like to apologize for any inaccuracies in the portrayal of how banks work. I don't work at one, and everything I know about bank heists I've learned from TV. Specifically, _Criminal Minds_ and _Flashpoint_.

Secondly, I hereby dedicate this chapter to Gavroche T, because I must come clean and admit that I'm one of those shallow fanfiction writers who waits to get reviews before posting the next chapter. I'm a bad example, kids. You should write and post because it makes you happy, not because you have an audi – WAIT NO, THAT'S A LIE. Everyone on this site writes for an audience. Read and review your fellow writers, meet fellow fans. Heck, Gavroche T is a _thirteen-year-old_ Les Mis fan! That's pretty hardcore. And pretty rare, I'm guessing. Props to her.

**Anonymous:** (FOAMS AT MOUTH)

**A3:** Oh yeah, okay. I forgot about him. SO, if you guys had read any of my other Les Mis stuff – or any of my stuff in general – you know that I do these things called Ending Authoressial Notes. And within them, I and a character or muse of my choice sort of, well, shamelessly beg for reviews! Because, like I mentioned before, I crave reviews like I crave air. Well, maybe not that badly. But I am fond of them! And who better to help me plead shamelessly for reviews than everyone's favorite attractive blonde revolutionary!

**Enjolras:** I WOULD THINK THAT BY NOW YOU WOULD HAVE GAINED A DECENT UNDERSTANDING OF HOW MUCH I _LOATHE YOU_

**A3:** Aww, you guys hear that? He loves me!

**Enjolras:** NO I DON'T YOU ARE DELIBERATELY MISINTERPRETING ME

**A3: **Thaaaaat's right! And as I'm sure everyone can see, you're still a bit sore at me for… previous events, so we'll just go ahead and, uh, let you calm down there.

**Enjolras:** I am NEVER going to CALM DOWN. You want to know what I AM going to do?

**A3:** Nope. Absolutely not.

**Enjolras:** I AM GOING TO KILL YOU IN YOUR _SLEEP_

**A3:** Ahahaha don't mind him, he's a little high-strung. Please review if you enjoyed the chapter! (Screen fizzes)


	3. A Phone Call

**Opening A/N:** Wow, that last chapter was way shorter than I thought it was. I actually meant to get this next one posted yesterday, but clearly that didn't happen, ahaha. (GUESS WHO DISCOVERED THE VIDEO GAME _JOURNEY_ AND ENDED UP PROCRASTINATING ON EVERYTHING ALL. DAY. LONG.) But I'm here, now, with chapter 3! I hope you guys enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Shh, I'm watching trailers for the new movie that comes out this December. I haven't seen it yet because I don't own _Les Mis_. What's that? You thought I did? Oh my goodness, you're making me blush. Stop it, you.

* * *

As they re-entered the lobby, it was clearly visible through the windows and glass doors that a sizable force was amassing outside. Under normal circumstances, only a few police cars might have shown up to see what was wrong, but this was a bank, and one of the main banks of the city at that. As a result, the street outside was already clogged with police cars, SWAT and media vans, and a lot of people – police officers, reporters, other officials and a good many pedestrians, whom the police were clearly trying to remove to a safer distance.

"Lock the doors," Rendalt demanded, pushing Javert forward. As the inspector approached the doors, the criminal cried, "Don't open them or try anything stupid! If you do –"

"Yes, yes, you'll shoot the girl," Javert interrupted him, his tone icily sardonic. "I do believe you've mentioned that before."

As he went about locking the doors, Cosette relaxed slightly in Rendalt's grip. She knew that their situation was still a grim one, yet his calm and almost mocking demeanor made her remember that this was Inspector Javert – the most successful inspector in the city, admired by his fellow officers and feared by criminals everywhere – and perhaps things weren't as bad as they seemed to be.

A helicopter flew low overhead and Cosette felt Rendalt flinch. The thief was apparently beginning to get a picture of the situation he had gotten himself into, and possibly regretting it.

Javert finished locking the doors and gave them a tug to prove it. "There's that done. They'll be calling soon to ascertain the situation," he announced, and almost before he had finished speaking, the phone rang.

"Answer it," Rendalt barked, gesturing towards the phone with the gun. As Javert approached it, the thief added, "Put it on speakerphone. I don't want any funny business."

"I assure you, M. Rendalt, that I shall treat this as a matter of the utmost gravity," Javert informed him with dry humor, approaching the phone and pressing a button. He said nothing, and a few seconds later, a voice issued from the device, filling the room.

"This is the Chief of the Police Department. What is going on in there? Who is this?"

Without waiting for permission, Javert spoke. "This is Inspector Javert, sir. I was pursuing a criminal across the city when he entered the bank and took a hostage."

"_Javert_?" The inspector sounded surprised. "What else? We need to know the situation –"

"He has imprisoned the employees and patrons in the vault. He remains in possession of the hostage, and has threatened – repeatedly – to kill her and take another one should he be inconvenienced in any way."

"Alright, but why are you answering the phone?"

"Having disarmed me, he seems to see fit to use me to execute tasks for him so that he can maintain a hold on the hostage," Javert responded.

"Disarmed you? So he now has two weapons?"

"Affirmative."

There was a brief pause; then the Chief of Police spoke again.

"Has he got any demands?"

"No, I don't believe he does. He took the hostage as an act of desperation, and having made a career of petty theft and vandalism, I have reason to believe that he is well out of his depth -"

"SHUT UP!" Rendalt shouted. "I am _not_ out of my depth! I know perfectly well what I'm doing, and I do too have demands!"

"Well then," Javert drawled, "what are they?"

"Tell him I'll think about it! Now hang up!"

"He can hear you perfectly well," the inspector pointed out. "You are on speakerphone, after all. Goodbye," he told the phone, and hung up.

"Now, M. Rendalt," he told the man, "I suggest you acquire a plan."

* * *

**A3:** Again, permit me to reiterate that I am but a 19-year-old soon-to-be college student whose entire experience in the field of bank robberies comes from crime shows on TNT and ION. So, uh, just roll with me on this.

Enjolras, would you care to -

**Enjolras:** (Still foaming at the mouth, experiencing incomprehensible rage)

**A3:** Alright, clearly it was a bad idea to attempt to involve you in the Ending Authoressial Notes (EANs) of more than one story at a time. Go ahead and bop off back to Love Me Dead - speaking of which, I've got a chapter in the works for that, I haven't forgotten it, _nobody panic_.

(Enjolras poofs) Okay now who do I get to replace -

**?:** ME, ME, ME ME ME ME ME**  
**

**A3:** (Looks over) What? I don't see - _wait a minute_ (looks down)

**Gavroche:** PICK ME

**A3:** Well, that all depends on how good you are at pleading for reviews.

**Gavroche:** (Whips off hat and turns to readers) Good evenin', dear reviewers! Lovely evenin', my dears -

**A3:** PERFECT, YOU'RE HIRED


	4. A News Report

**Opening A/N:** Oops, that was a longer wait than I intended! I really do have this thing all written up and mostly finished, you guys. It's just a matter of finding the time and attention span to sit my butt down and actually upload each chapter. Lately I have the attention span of a rabbit on speed. Maybe it's something that happens with age :P

Anywho, here! Have TWO chapters, back-to-back, for your patience!

**Disclaimer:** ...wait what you were talking to me huh? No, if I owned Les Mis I'd have had to write that Waterloo chapter... ugh, the Waterloo chapter...

* * *

Two hours later, Valjean was beginning to get worried. He had called Cosette multiple times with no response, which was wrong and worrisome because she _always_ answered his calls. He tried to console himself with the thought that perhaps she had lost or misplaced her phone, or put it on silent, or even turned it off – she and Eponine might have gone to watch a movie or something of the sort, where doing so was required. Still, concern roiled unpleasantly in his chest.

He had thought about calling Javert, but the inspector hated to be interrupted at work, and so he refrained. In an attempt to distract himself he prayed, did a Sudoku puzzle, and tried to read a book, but he couldn't keep his mind on the plot. Finally he put it down and, in a last-ditch effort, turned on the TV.

Up popped the attractive and popular female reporter for the local news channel, with a bar on the screen below her containing large, yellow, italicized letters that proclaimed: _BREAKING NEWS!_ The television was on mute, and Valjean watched the footage for a few seconds before gasping and leaping to his feet, the remote falling suddenly from unfeeling fingers to the floor. It was only a moment later that he snatched it up again to turn the volume on.

"…hostage in the bank. As stated earlier, the alarm went off late this morning at around eleven o'clock. Police have tried to contact the criminal inside, who seems to be keeping only one hostage, holding the others locked in the bank vault. He is using the police inspector who chased him into the bank as an intermediary, it would seem, as the inspector is answering the phone for him. Oh, thank you, George… Ah, the inspector is one Javert by name. Thank you, Claude, if you could put his picture up there…"

The remote fell from Valjean's hand again as Javert's picture appeared on the screen and the older man lunged for the phone on the end table.

* * *

Despite the circumstances, Javert was amused. It had been a little over two hours since Rendalt had taken control of the bank, and in those last two hours he had done nothing but pace and try to decide what he wanted. Several times the Chief of Police had called back, and Rendalt had told them he was busy deciding. When the chief had mentioned something to the effect of not being able to wait all day, Rendalt had screamed that he would wait until he was ready and then shot the phone. Cosette, who Rendalt had placed in a corner, had cried out in surprise and alarm, but other than that had done nothing. Javert was pleased with her; she was comporting herself surprisingly well under the circumstances. He had not yet spoken to her due to a belief that if Rendalt believed that they were not particularly well acquainted, it would go better for her, as Rendalt would not be able to use her against him as well as he might if he knew their relationship.

Now Rendalt stopped pacing (he had been doing so out of sight of the windows, behind the tellers' desks) and pointed the gun at Javert. "There are blinds on those windows. I want you to pull them down."

Javert, whose shoulder had been getting steadily worse with the passing of time, merely nodded in response and pushed off from where he had been leaning against the wall in plain view of the street outside. As he did so, a default ringtone issued from his pocket.

Cosette's phone had already rung several times, until Rendalt had ordered her to turn it off. Now he turned on her, angry, only to realize that it was not coming from her at all. Curious, he turned towards Javert, who watched him, making no movement.

"Answer it," Rendalt told him after a long moment. Javert reached into his pocket, his expression not changing despite the fact that he had to move his badly injured shoulder in the effort, and pulled out the phone.

"Put it on speaker," Rendalt snapped. Javert answered the call and then pushed the button that would allow Rendalt to hear the caller as well.

"Javert! Javert, thank goodness you've answered. Are you alright? Is Cosette with you?"

Instantly Javert's gaze snapped to Cosette's, and he shook his head very slightly. Cosette, who had been about to cry out to her father, stopped and gave Javert a worried, confused look. Javert stared at her a moment longer before transferring his attention to the phone.

"Javert? Javert, are you still there?"

"I am here, Valjean. I'm fine. Cosette is fine as well."

"How did this happen, Javert? How did you end up there? Are you -"

Rendalt grabbed the phone from Javert's hand. "Shut up, old man, and pay attention. I'm the one in charge here, not _Javert_, and as long as he does what I say, nobody's going to get hurt. I would suggest you just stay out of this, for your own good. And don't worry, as long as they behave, they'll be fine." He hit the button that would hang the phone up and tossed it to Javert, who brought his arm up to catch it but stopped short. The phone hit the hard floor of the bank, the back breaking off and the battery falling out. Rendalt regarded Javert with interest.

"Nice job of lying to that Jean-whatever person," he sneered. "You're not _fine_ at all."

Javert met the thief's gaze with his own steady one and said nothing. From her corner, Cosette watched them both with increasing anxiety. The abrupt halt in motion had been unlike the inspector, and though she couldn't tell due to the fact that the upper part of his coat was buttoned shut and the material of it was black, she was certain that he was bleeding.

Rendalt was the first to look away from the silent staring match. "Get the blinds," he snapped, going back over to Cosette and the tellers' desks. "And don't try to sign to them, or tell them anything, or pull any fancy police crap. I'm watching you."

"I'm sure you are," Javert answered drily, crossing the room to attend to the first window.

* * *

Valjean sat on the couch, the phone gripped tightly in his trembling hand. After several long moments, he became aware that something was happening on the television and looked up.

"Something's going on inside… yes, Inspector Javert would appear to be pulling down the blinds that shield the windows in the bank! This will make it extremely difficult for any snipers to get a mark on their target – one can only hope that the police have a backup plan…"

The camera zoomed in on Javert, and as it did so Valjean leaned forward, a frown marring his features. Javert had only been visible close up for a second, but that second had been enough for Valjean to realize that something was wrong. He wasn't sure what it was – perhaps something in the way Javert had been holding himself – yes, that was it. He had seen Javert stand that way once before – the straight posture, _too_ straight, almost fatalistic – that long-ago night when he had saved the inspector from committing suicide because the man didn't believe he should continue to live.

Javert, he realized, had lied to him. He was not fine, and possibly neither was Cosette. Something was terribly, horribly wrong.

The door slammed behind Valjean seconds later. He left the TV on.

* * *

**A3:** THE PLOT THICKENS

**Gavroche:** (Noms on candy) What's a plot?

**A3:** A plot is - wait a minute. That's MY candy. That's my FOURTH OF JULY candy.

**Gavroche:** Di'n have your _name_ on it.

**A3:** THAT'S NOT THE POINT - okay, you know what? I'm not going to get into an argument over this with you. I'm going to be the bigger, better person. (Turns to screen) I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far! I really appreciate your input, and I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Also, I recognize some familiar faces out there! Or usernames, anyway! AW YOU GUYS (gives you all a big hug) It's great to see you again! I'll try to be a better updater, I will.

**Gavroche:** She's not really that busy. She just spends most of her spare time on, what's it called... Faller? Roller? Oh yeah, Tumblr, that's it -

**A3:** (Shoves saltwater taffy in his mouth) LIES AND SLANDER


	5. A Plan in Progress

**Opening A/N:** Told you I'd get two chapters up today! This one is super short, actually, but the next one will be longer. So buck up! Be brave! I will update again soon. I MEAN IT THIS TIME.

**Disclaimer:** Really? REALLY? We're gonna do this _agai_ - oh alright, whoa whoa, no need to wave that copyright paperwork at me. Gosh, be careful with that stuff. I don't own Les Mis! Really! No, wait, stop, YOU PROMISED YOU'D PUT THE MANILA FOLDERS AWAY AHHHHH

* * *

The blinds were all down, darkening the room considerably. It was somewhere around two o'clock in the afternoon. Cosette huddled in her corner as Rendalt stalked back and forth across the lobby, avoiding the curtain-less doors as he tried to figure out his next move.

To Javert, it was obvious. "Give yourself up," he suggested. "You've already gone too far; you hardly have anything to lose, and you haven't the foggiest idea how to proceed anyway."

"I'm working on it," Rendalt snapped, then subsided into muttering to himself. "Maybe – maybe I'll ask for money. Yeah. Money. And… a car."

"Oh, brilliant. You'll get quite far with that," Javert commented drolly. Rendalt whirled on him, leveling the gun in his direction.

"SHUT UP! You know, I'm getting _really_ tired of your attitude! _I'm_ in charge here! You might have chased me in here, but now _I'm_ in control! CONTROL!"

Javert watched him with a calculating eye. He could tell that the stress of his unfamiliar position was telling on Rendalt, who had been a common, if active, thief and vandal for a reason. Complicated and dangerous crimes like robbing a bank were far beyond his capabilities, or even his desires. Now Rendalt, who could clearly see no way out of his situation, was beginning to get a true sense of how much of a cornered rat he was.

And cornered rats got very dangerous, very fast.

"Yes, M. Rendalt," he said quietly, "you are in control. I'm not disputing that. But," he continued, "the people outside are running out of patience. They're not going to let you think about what you require for your demands indefinitely. There's only a limited amount of air inside that vault; they have to think of that." He might have added that in all the time Rendalt had been being indecisive, the people outside had doubtless been coming up with numerous plans and ways to get inside, but he decided that such information would only press Rendalt further into a state of panic.

Rendalt frowned. Then his eyes narrowed.

"Alright. I'm in a bank. There's money in banks, lots of money. Let's start there." He pointed the gun at Cosette, Javert being too far away to jump and disarm him while the gun was not trained on his person. "Let's head back to the vault, shall we?"

It was more of an effort for Javert to twist the wheel that would open the vault than it should have been, and Cosette noticed this with great concern. She knew from the fact that he had already shot Javert that Rendalt would probably do as he said and shoot her if anyone gave him any trouble, but she was becoming far more worried about Javert than she was about herself. The man had not said a word about his condition, yet to her, who lived with him and knew how he normally acted, it was clear that he was in pain.

As Javert opened the door, Rendalt stepped into full view of the people inside, holding Cosette tightly to him and the gun pressed back to her temple.

"Alright, no one do anything stupid. Who's got the keys to these boxes or knows where they are?"

There was a stifled sob, and a young woman with short dark blonde hair stepped forward, her hand partway raised.

"I – I know where they are. I can take you to them… just don't hurt me…"

Rendalt said something that sounded vaguely threatening to her, but Cosette wasn't listening. She was staring intently at Javert, who was leaning against the wall just outside of the vault. His breathing was slow and deep, as if he was sleeping, though he clearly wasn't, and one of his hands was pressed to the place on his coat where the bullet had entered.

Abruptly his gaze met hers, and held it as his hand dropped from his chest and fell to his side. Cosette's gaze darted to it, just in time to catch a flash of red on the palm of Javert's hand.

Even if Javert knew the futility of appealing to Rendalt for medical assistance, Cosette did not, nor did she care – she had at the least to try.

"M. Rendalt," she cried, "the inspector is hurt. Please – please let me help him!"

"Shut up," Rendalt told her almost absentmindedly as he beckoned the blonde woman out of the vault with his gun.

"He needs _help_!" Cosette insisted, and tried to wriggle out of Rendalt's grasp. Instantly the gun was pressed back to her head, and at the same time, Javert stood up straight.

"I'm perfectly alright," he told her. "There need be absolutely no concern for me on your part."

"But –" Cosette began, only to be silenced by the look Javert gave her.

The young blonde woman led them to where the keys were. As she handed them to Rendalt, Javert permitted his gaze to wander out the small window in the room. Nothing could be seen through it but sky and the leaves of trees, but he wasn't admiring the scenery. He was thinking of the people in the vault, and Cosette, and how he could help them escape.

The escape plan provided for everyone except himself.

* * *

**Gavroche:** DOWN WITH THE TRAITOROUS DOG

**A3:** Excuse me I can get rid of you as fast as you wormed your way in here

**Gavroche:** Ha. Can _not_.

**A3:** Would you rather be sitting here eating MY candy or back out on the streets of 19th century France? Fending for yourself? Worrying about your sister?

**Gavroche:** Ah, 'Ponine's fine. She's always fine.

**A3:** She DIES.

**Gavroche:** (Chokes on toffee)

**A3:** In the rain. She gets shot. It's really tragic. She sings a song about said rain. A sad song.

**Gavroche:** WHY WOULD YOU _TELL ME THAT_

**A3:** Serves you right for eating my candy.

**Gav:** I know why Enjolras hates you now! WAHHHH (runs out crying)

**A3:** Wait

what

no

COME BACK

...oops


	6. A Move is Made

**Opening A/N:** HEY GUYS, I'M BAaaackahackhack (falls over coughing) ARGH OKAY I'M FINE. But yeah, over the weekend I contracted a DEADLY DISEASE (the common cold) and was also ABDUCTED (had to work). I am still sick and working but hopefully you can expect more regular updates for now! And remember, I've actually already written most of this story, so I'm trying hard to make sure that the update times aren't so far apart.

Also, you can all go shower **smaller** with love, because she's like 90% of the reason I kicked my butt into gear and updated the story TODAY! She sent me a review specifically asking about updates THIS WEEKEND and as I sat on the couch with my Puffs Plus and my laptop, I said "yeah this weekend sounds good and reasonable especially since I can't exactly remember when I last updated." (Showers **smaller** with appreciation) GOOD JOB

**Side Note:** aaahhhh this was meant to be up an hour ago but the Internet cut out for _no good reason aaaahh_

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Les Mis I wouldn't be trying to make money in retail aarrrghh. Or at all, come to think of it. I would be able to afford to BATHE in money. Which would be awesome. Kind of wasteful, but PRETTY AWESOME all the same.

* * *

As a well-known and respected member of the community, Valjean had been permitted into the group of policemen and reporters gathered in the street near the bank. For an hour he had been trying to find out what was going on, but no one was telling him anything.

Finally, one of the reporters – the popular woman from the local news channel – came over to where he was sitting and looking distressed. "Hello, sir," she greeted him politely. "My name is Chanel Burke. I'm with the local news channel – perhaps you've seen me on TV."

"Yes, I've seen you," Valjean said with a sigh that was aimed more at the general situation than her, standing up to shake her hand. "My name is Jean Valjean."

"I've noticed you going around and asking a lot of questions. Are you somehow related to what's going on?"

"Yes, I am. The – the inspector, who's in there – he is a very close friend of mine."

"Oh, really!" Mlle. Burke's voice held only sympathy, though her expression betrayed the greatest interest. She moved closer. "Would you – would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

Valjean knew that she wasn't trying to be insensitive; she was simply doing her job. And it wasn't as though he was doing anything else at the moment.

"Go right ahead."

* * *

Rendalt seized enough loot from the vault boxes to fill six large bags. Javert did not point out that this was far too much for Rendalt to escape with, nor did he complain when Rendalt forced him to carry them all out to the lobby. Javert did not see the purpose of this; the best reason for it that he could come up with was that Rendalt somehow planned to walk out of the front doors with the bags.

"I want to know what's going on out there," Rendalt muttered, walking over to the plasma-screen television in the waiting area of the lobby. Picking up the remote from a nearby table, he turned it on.

"…Jean Valjean, who claims to be very close friends with the trapped Inspector Javert. Do you know why he would have chased the criminal into the bank?"

"I should imagine that he thought once he was in the bank, he could corner the man and overpower him."

"But clearly that plan didn't work," Mlle. Burke pressed, "since Javert has now been imprisoned and disarmed."

"Disarmed?" Valjean's brow furrowed in a concerned frown. "When did -"

"Oh, you must be _really_ uninformed. The Chief of Police called the bank to ask what was going on and whether or not the criminal had any demands, and Inspector Javert answered the phone. He said that everyone was fine but that the criminal had disarmed him."

"I… I see," Valjean said faintly, still looking concerned.

Rendalt had turned away from the television and was now glowering at Javert, who was standing by the bags and looking tired.

"Who is that man?" he demanded. Javert sighed.

"That man is a friend of mine, as you heard the reporter say. He's the one who called earlier."

Rendalt frowned. "I don't like it." He leveled the pistol at Javert, Cosette watching them anxiously. "I want you to tell him to go away."

And here was what Javert had been waiting for. Though it was impossible for him to stand any straighter, he took one step forward and stopped short. "No."

Rendalt's expression registered no little surprise. As Javert had anticipated, Rendalt had not known what to do in the face of a direct refusal and challenge to his authority; however, this window would be very small, as Rendalt was a man under stress in a situation that he had neither the abilities nor resources to handle. Already his surprise was segueing into anger at Javert's direct disobedience; he knew, and Javert knew, that if he lost control even for an instant, it would be lost to him forever.

"What do you mean, _no_?" he demanded, his fingers tightening on the gun.

"I mean that I am not going to do anything further that you tell me to do until you release your hostage as well as the people in the vault," Javert informed him, nodding in Cosette's direction as he spoke. Rendalt's expression turned nasty as he aimed the gun at the young woman.

"You will do _everything_ I tell you to do," he threatened, "or I'll shoot her."

The gaze with which Javert matched Rendalt's glare was entirely cool and void of emotion. "No, you _won't_," he said firmly, "for several reasons, chief of which being that you will not be able to turn that gun from her to myself quickly enough in order to prevent me from crossing this room and breaking your neck for ever daring to threaten her in the first place. But if you do as I say, your situation will at the least have less problems attached to it."

Rendalt went rather pale, his gaze darting between the terrified Cosette, who was now standing with her back pressed against the wall as if she could disappear through it, and Javert, who was still imposing and even threatening, despite the fact that he was injured and Rendalt held both guns and practically all the cards.

Finally, after a long pause, the thief spat out a single word. "_Fine_."

* * *

The doors of the bank swung open without preamble, catching everyone waiting outside by surprise. Instantly a copious amount of guns were pointed at the entrance, but despite the sudden opening of the doors, no one made an appearance until about a minute later, when Javert stepped into clear view of the weapons.

"Everyone is fine," Javert announced before anyone could say anything. His voice, though loud, was calm and controlled, and Valjean permitted himself a modicum of relaxation. "M. Rendalt has agreed to let the captives go. He is releasing the captives now. Please wait until they reach the street to approach them."

He stepped out of sight, and then a group of people came filing out of the doors, several of them crying. There were about 30 people in total, and Valjean scanned the group anxiously, looking for Cosette amongst them. When he didn't see her, his anxiety levels began to skyrocket.

Then Javert reappeared. "M. Rendalt has agreed to let the hostage go as well, on the condition that an unmarked vehicle of sufficient holding capacity for six large canvas bags will be delivered to the back door of the bank, and he will be permitted to leave in this vehicle and not be followed. He also -"

Javert stopped abruptly and whirled about. "_NO!_"

In a flash he was gone from the door, leaving it open. There was a gunshot, a scream, and then silence that didn't last very long at all as the police rushed into the building.

* * *

**- I did actually notice just now, while posting this, that JVJ introduces himself as Jean Valjean rather than as M. Fauchelevent. ...shhh that never happened okay. IF YOU DON'T THINK ABOUT IT TOO MUCH, YOU DON'T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT IT. Alright, and now back to your regularly scheduled programming!  
**

**A3:** Why are these chapters so short THEY DON'T LOOK THIS SHORT IN WORD, I SWEAR

**Gavroche:** EXCUSE ME

**A3:** Oh man, what is it NOW? Dude, there are NO MORE TWIZZLERS. You ate them all. Like, ALL.

**Gav:** No, no, look. Someone calling themselves... **Gavroche T** wants to know why you were so mean to me in the last chapter! Since they share my name, I think they have a valid point! They have a valid point PERIOD!

**A3:** Uhhh. Er. Mmmm. How can I explain this... it was for the sake of... humor.

**Gav:** WHAT

**A3:** Yes. Ah. Somewhere, far far away, someone was sitting in front of a computer screen laughing because you ran out of the room crying and I felt bad about it.

**Gav:** ...

**A3:** I SAID I FELT BAD

**Gav:** YOU'RE A _HORRIBLE PERSON_

**A3: **Oh come on you don't _mean_ that OW alright FINE maybe you did THAT WAS MY ONLY LEFT FOOT _OW_

**Gav:** E'rryone! Review and tell Triple A to stop being mean to me!

**A3:** (Falls onto sofa) ARGH I THINK YOU BROKE MY IRON MAN SOCKS. Also dude, I'm SORRY! I'm used to ENJOLRAS! I can't handle all this childish sensitivity NOPE DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH MY OTHER FOOT _GET AWAY_


	7. A Girl is Saved

**HEY HEY LOOK UP HERE PAY ATTENTION THIS IS AN ANNOUNCEMENT:** GUYS ARE YOU LISTENING

LISTEN UP

THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO VALJAVERTJINN BECAUSE IT'S HER BIRTHDAY

She asked really nicely for a chapter update this weekend and even explained that it's not really her birthday, it's a late birthday, but she was only getting to celebrate it NOW. As I have been the victim of late birthdays many a time before in my life, I completely understand and so, HAPPY BIRTHDAY VALJAVERTJINN! Congratulations on surviving another year on Planet Earth!

**Disclaimer:** Oh that's right, at some point I'm supposed to mention that I don't actually own this book/musical/series thing. …I COULD IF I _WANTED_ TO. But I don't. So you guys get this instead. CONGRATULATIONS! There I did it aren't you proud of me mm-hmm

* * *

Upon making the announcement about the captives, Javert had fallen back into the bank and stepped to one side as he let them pass. By dint of threats and sheer force of will, he had gotten Rendalt to see things his way and let the people go, but he didn't know how much longer he could keep the upper hand. Rendalt was growing increasingly upset and tense, and it wasn't long until all of that would build up and finally cause him to snap.

As the captives filed from the bank in the orderly manner in which Javert had ordered them to do so, the inspector fell back against the wall, his injury catching up to him. He suddenly felt exhausted – immensely so, and he just wanted to _rest_. But he knew he couldn't – not only could he not afford to show weakness in front of Rendalt, but he was fully aware that if he lay down to rest, there was a high likelihood that he might never get up again.

The last person passed him, and he forced himself back into a standing position, turning back to face Rendalt, who was standing with a hand on Cosette's shoulder and his gun covering Javert.

"Let me tell them that she's coming out," he told Rendalt. Cosette was gazing at him with incredible concern, but he paid her expression no heed, stepping to the door.

As he spoke to the crowd of people outside, he became aware from the corner of his vision that Rendalt was becoming fidgety. He continued speaking, trying to keep an eye on Rendalt at the same time.

"…leave in this vehicle and not be followed. He also –"

Without warning, Cosette sprang forward and tried to grab hold of Rendalt's gun. The criminal was so on edge, however, that he was able to react in time to leap back out of the way, only to immediately train the gun on her and pull the trigger.

Javert had turned around as soon as Cosette had moved, and now he shouted a loud "_NO_!" – he wasn't sure at who it was aimed, Cosette or Rendalt.

He was between the two of them when the bullet came out of Rendalt's gun.

**(A/N: Originally, this was where CH7 ended. But it didn't even take up a whole page, and I felt bad leaving you guys with this when I'd just left you with a really terrible cliffhanger. So, we carry on!)**

* * *

Cosette came out first, escorted by no less than three policemen. She fell on Valjean the instant she saw him, running into his arms and burying her face in his chest. She didn't seem to be able to speak for tears, so Valjean spoke for her.

"Cosette, darling, calm down! You're safe now, it's alright. Did he hurt you?"

"N – no," she hiccuped, "but, but, Papa, it's _not_ alright, it _isn't_! J-Javert – Javert, he stopped him, but – but he's hurt, he's _so badly_ hurt –"

Valjean's heart came very close to stopping. However, his first thought was to calm down his daughter and make sure that she was unharmed.

"Cosette, sweetie, you need to _calm down_ and tell me what happened, darling. Can you do that? Hush, now, it's alright. Everything's alright."

Cosette choked back her tears. "R-Rendalt - he - he was getting jumpy - and he wasn't paying attention while the other people were being let out - and - and I thought I could - I could grab the gun, or knock it to the f-floor, while he wasn't looking. And - and he saw me move, and he had the gun on me before I knew what was happ - _happening_." She was crying again. "And he _pulled the trigger_, and all I could do was _scream_, but Javert was - s-somehow he was between us, and - and he knocked Rendalt's hand up, and the bullet hit the c-ceiling, and then - then he kicked J-Javert, and the police -"

As she trailed off into sobs, Valjean pressed her close.

"Cosette, Cosette, it's fine, I'm sure it's fine. The inspector is very strong, he's faced criminals befo –"

"_No_, you _don't understand_," Cosette gasped hysterically. "He – he was already hurt – when it all started, Rendalt shot him, in the shoulder, and Papa, Papa, I think he's – I think he's -"

Valjean didn't need to hear any more. Giving her a final comforting hug, he moved forward and entered the building, ignoring the policeman who called out to him as he noticed that Valjean was going inside.

Police were circling Rendalt, who was aiming a gun at them and screaming, "BACK! GET _BACK! _ALL OF YOU!" As Valjean entered, Rendalt looked up and caught sight of him.

"_YOU_!" he shrieked, and aimed the gun at Valjean – too late, as the police rushed forward and began to wrestle with him.

Valjean avoided the conflict and rushed to Javert's side. The inspector was on both knees on the floor near the doors, one hand pressed to his shoulder as he stared blankly into space. Valjean was on his knees beside him in an instant.

"Javert! Javert, can you hear me?" The inspector did not seem to be registering his presence. "_Javert_! Snap out of it!"

The inspector's gaze drifted to the policemen fighting with Rendalt. He said nothing, however, and made no further movement – at least, not until one of the cops backed away from the fight, holding Javert's gun in the air.

"I got it!" he yelled. "I've got his weapon! He's harmless!"

Valjean started back as Javert suddenly came back to full awareness. "_NO_!" he shouted, lunging to his feet. He would have fallen over again had Valjean not caught him, holding the inspector up with ease. The effort of moving seemed to have rendered Javert speechless, but he clutched at Valjean's sleeve on the arm wrapped around his waist.

"G-gun," he got out in a tone made vicious by the effort and urgency with which the word was forced from him, and Valjean frowned at him for a brief second before understanding.

"He's got another gun!" he thundered, looking towards the police. "HE'S GOT ANOTHER GUN!"

The police turned back towards Rendalt, but it was too late. The criminal had his revolver, and just before he started shooting, Valjean heard Javert mutter, "Five."

Two policemen went down in the first few seconds, accompanied by Javert's quiet countdown. "Four. Three."

Rendalt shot at another policeman, but it was wild and uncontrolled and too far away, and he missed. As the bullet slammed into a wall, Javert bit out, "Two."

Another bullet hit a policeman in the leg, and then Rendalt spun around and saw Javert and Valjean. Immediately, he ran towards them across the room, lifting the revolver and pulling the trigger a final time.

"_One_," Javert said with finality, and shoved Valjean out of the way.

* * *

**A3:** Hey hey, if you didn't read the opening A/N go ahead and read that now please! It's kinda sorta borderline important, I mean, it's about a BIRTHDAY.  
That's pretty cool right there.

Did you read it

Okay

Moving on now, SORRY ABOUT THE CLIFFHANGER! Sort of? Kind of. CLIFFHANGERS ARE WHAT I DO, I CAN'T HELP IT. I know you guys still love me anyway. Right?

**Gavroche:** WHAT ARE YOU DOING GET BACK OVER HERE THE OLYMPICS ARE ON

**A3:** Well yes but I've got a fanfic -

**Gavroche: **_OLYMPICS_

**A3:** Oh man okay fine. You're really getting into this aren't you?

**Gavroche:** THIS IS REALLY COOL

**A3:** Yeah... yeah it is, you're right. (Jumps onto couch) OLYMPICS SUMMER 2012 YEAHHHHHH

**And then nothing got done for the next two weeks - oh wait that would really make you guys mad huh. OKAY I'LL TRY**


	8. A Hospital Visit

**THIS IS PROBABLY IMPORTANT SO YOU MIGHT WANT TO READ IT:** HELLO! This is an announcement! First off, VALJAVERTJINN IS BACK, YEAH! So now we can return to our regularly scheduled programming! Haha, no, that's just me stamping an excuse on the 20+ day gap between chapter updates, because secretly I'm a terrible person. If you listen to what Enjolras has to say, you already knew that.

SECOND OFF, the important thing! I'm leaving for college in two days! TWO DAYS, you guys! This is an exciting life development! However, it also means that Real Life rises up with a vengeance, parting us once more. Hopefully the updates won't be any more sporadic and erratic than usual, but I don't know! I've never done college before! And no, community college doesn't count! I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING SEND HELP

While I wait for that help to arrive, here's the chapter update you've all been waiting for! WOO YEAH. This is actually another one that was originally two chapters, but I combined them into one chapter because the key word in me being secretly a terrible person is SECRETLY. I do good deeds every now and then to throw off suspicion.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Les Mis, a second trailer for the movie would be out already. Is there a second trailer out yet? See, if I owned it I would be totally more informed than this! And I might know other things too, like when Season 7 of Doctor Who will premiere. Oh wait, that's why we have Google.

* * *

The gunshot was the most final thing that Valjean had ever heard. This was mostly because it was accompanied by the sight of Javert's coat ripping along the side as the bullet tore through it, followed by Javert taking a single step back before collapsing to the floor. At the same time, reinforcements tore in through the doors of the bank - cops and SWAT teams and everything else that could possibly be associated with a bank holdup, but Valjean paid attention to none of them. He had eyes only for Javert, who was lying still on the marble floor – so, so still.

Rendalt being fully restrained, the paramedics were permitted to enter the room. Two young men hauled Valjean to his feet while several other paramedics swarmed Javert.

Valjean was escorted outside, and a few minutes later he saw the paramedics come out with Javert on a stretcher. As they prepared the ambulance, Valjean approached the stretcher.

"Javert! Javert, are you – is he going to be alright?" He appealed to the paramedic for information, as the inspector was unconscious.

"We don't know yet, sir. It would appear that he has other wounds besides this one." As the paramedic spoke, he was unbuttoning Javert's coat, laying it open to reveal a sight that caused Valjean to step back with a small cry of disbelief. The entire side of Javert's shirt from the shoulder down was damp with blood – an immense amount, clearly the result of a wound that had gone far too untreated for far too long.

Valjean didn't even need the paramedics to tell him what he already knew. As he turned slowly back towards where he had left Cosette, he began to pray fervently in his head, knowing that if Javert survived, it would be nothing short of a miracle.

* * *

The slow, steady beeping of the heart monitor filled the hospital room. To Valjean's mind, it was far too slow, and far too steady. When people were awake and living, their hearts did not continually beat at the same perfect, calm, and uniform pace. Emotions and movement made their heartbeat quicken and slow a thousand times a day, and though he did not show them, Valjean knew that Javert had emotions – therefore these high-pitched beeps, his heartbeats, placed apart so equally, like the ticking of the second hand on a clock, did not fit Javert.

However, Valjean also knew that the beeping was the only thing by which he could tell that Javert was still alive.

Calloused by years of hard prison labor, his hand grasped Javert's, which should have been encased in a black glove as per the usual but was instead lying glove-free and entirely limp and unresponsive on the bed. The scene was an emotional, caring one that would have caused anyone who walked in on it to turn around and leave again with a smile on their face.

The words that came out of Valjean's mouth were not.

"Javert, you absolute _idiot_. How could you be so foolish? I don't even want to know what you were _thinking_." _Beep. Beep._ "I realize that you were doing your best to protect everyone – to protect Cosette – but you need to start taking better care of yourself!" His hand tightened convulsively on the inspector's. "Do you have _any_ idea how much _blood_ you lost? T – too much." As his voice faltered, Valjean closed his eyes and bowed his head over Javert's hand, his lips pressing together. "_Too much_, Javert."

His only response was the steady beeping of the heart monitor, informing him that Javert was still alive and nothing more – but nothing less, either, and for that, Valjean was grateful.

* * *

Javert woke slowly to the sounds of bad daytime television and someone's cell phone ringing. The phone was answered after only a couple of rings, the volume on the TV being turned down accordingly.

"Hello, darling," came Valjean's voice. "How are you? …No, he hasn't woken up yet. He's still the same. …Of course I will, Cosette. Don't worry; he's safe now. Alright. You too. Goodbye."

The phone snapped shut, and then Valjean addressed the inspector. "Cosette told me to tell you that she loves you, and that you had better recover soon or she will go down to wherever they are holding Jacque Rendalt and 'deal with him herself,' in her own words. So I think you had better wake up, Javert, and soon, or there are going to be problems with your culprit."

Javert opened his eyes and met Valjean's gaze full-on. The first words out of his mouth were: "Have you been there all night?"

Valjean stared at him for a good minute before laughing and running a hand wearily down his face. "Try more like the last two days."

Javert was silent for a long time; then he tried to sit up. Valjean noticed just a little too late and leaned forward with an exclamation at the same time as Javert fell back with a strangled noise of pain.

"Nngh," he grunted, bringing a hand up to press against the bandages on his shoulder. "H – hurts."

"I should imagine so," Valjean snapped heatedly. Javert raised an eyebrow, surprised at the unexpected display of temper from the most mild-mannered man he knew. "Oh, no, you don't get to look at me like that. I've had two days to cool off, Javert, but I'm still irritated with you. What were you even –"

The door to Javert's room opened. "Inspector Javert?" The name was pronounced Ja-_vurt_ rather than Ja-_vair_. "I'd like to ask you some questions."

Valjean's chair actually moved with the force of his departure from it. "LEAVE," he snarled, and Javert cast him a startled, frowning glance. Never before had he heard Valjean sound like he did now – his voice far deeper than usual, his tone unapologetically menacing and angry.

"But I was _told_ that I could speak to the good inspector when he awoke and was in stable condition," the man wheedled. His voice was too high for a man's, pitched in a perpetual coercing whine that grated on Javert's nerves. "And as far as I can see –"

"As far as you can see is as far as you will _get_," Valjean snapped. He had rounded Javert's bed and was advancing on the man, who was backing up fast as the much taller, stronger man bore down on him. "Leave, now, or I will not be responsible for my actions the next time I see you."

The man was already halfway out the door, barely managing to snatch his hand out of the room in time as Valjean made a concerted effort to slam the door on his fingers. By this time, Javert had managed to school his features into an expression showing only a particle of the absolute astonishment that he felt at Valjean's inexplicably antagonistic behavior. However, he was not left in doubt for long.

Valjean turned around and let out a long, frustrated breath. "_That man_," he uttered viciously. "They'd barely got you to the hospital and he was looking to _talk_ to you, to _interrogate_ you. He recognized Cosette, but she wouldn't talk to him and once he found out that she was my daughter he left her alone, though I practically had to physically threaten him with disembowelment or the equivalent before he backed off and left her alone. Then he re-shifted his focus back to you – I went out to get a snack from the vending machine yesterday, only to come back in here and find him trying to _wake you up_." He growled and pushed a hand through his hair.

"Who is he?" Javert inquired. Valjean made a face as he returned to his chair.

"His name is Thenardiér. He's a… _blogger_." If one was to go by the way Valjean said the word, it could be assumed that bloggers tied puppies to trees and kicked them. "Though apparently he also works for a tabloid magazine. I don't trust him at all. He's a liar and a cheat who would sell his own children to get what he wants."

Javert looked at Valjean sharply. It wasn't just Valjean's tone of voice, it was the words he had chosen. Not "he _seems_ like a liar and a cheat who _might_," but rather, "he _is_ a liar and a cheat who _would_."

He let it go for the moment, but filed it away in the corner of his mind strictly reserved for Valjean and associated articles. Due to the nature of the sentence and the emotion involved, he suspected that it had something to do with Cosette, but he decided not to press the subject further at the current moment. Instead, he led their conversation in similar but still unconnected direction.

"How is Cosette?"

Valjean sank into his chair with a long sigh. "She's… she's alright. Doing quite well, actually." He looked at Javert, and Javert looked away, because he couldn't and didn't care to deal with the amount of gratitude in Valjean's eyes. "If it hadn't been for you –"

"If it hadn't been for _me_," Javert cut in, "Rendalt wouldn't have run into the bank in the first place. Cosette would never have been in danger, and you would not have had to worry."

Valjean frowned. "Javert –"

"When I woke up you told me that you were irritated with me, and I understand that. I expect it, even. I lied to you; I told you that everything was fine when it wasn't, and I understand that you're angry with me about that. But _don't_," he finished sharply, "make me out to be a hero, because if I had not been pursuing Rendalt he never would have gone inside that bank, and therefore the blame for the incident rests entirely upon my shoulders and none other's."

Valjean's fists clenched on the bedspread. "Javert, only a deluded mind could think that you were _possibly_ to blame for what –"

He broke off as Javert pushed himself up. "Valjean, don't you dare – d – don't –"

The door opened again, and Cosette entered the room. "Papa? They told me I could come – what's wrong?!"

Valjean was already pressing the nurse call button. Meanwhile, Javert was falling back onto the bed, pressing one hand to the injury on his chest as the beeping of his heart monitor continued to speed up.

"You shouldn't have exerted yourself, good God, Javert, you practically _bled out_ and it's only _been_ two days, why would you –" Breaking off, Valjean ran to the door. "NURSE! We need a nurse in here _NOW_!"

* * *

**A3:** So I was in the middle of editing and posting this when I got a text saying that my brother had broken his wrist! And his elbow, actually. That was exciting and unexpected! He's fine - well, not _fine_, his arm's broken in various places. But you know, for a fairly speedy motorbike crash, I'd say he's doing alright.

Also, in news that nobody cares about, I watched _The Lorax_ and it broke my heart in all the good ways. I may need rehab or something. I'm still not recovered.

**Gavroche:** Oi! Enough about you! What about the readers?! That's like, the fifth cliffhanger in a row!

**A3:** Um, well -

**Gavroche:** And now you're going off to college? That's gonna be another long wait!

**A3:** But orientation -

**Gavroche:** Don't give me any more of your excuses! Psh, you might as well not even be here. Give me that.

**A3:** HEY! That's my laptop! We don't touch the Authoressial computer!

**Gavroche:** Yeah, well, SOMEONE'S got to give the Inspector a happy ending!

**A3:** Uh, wow, you seem pretty upset about this. Why are you so keen on Javert all of a sudden?

**Gavroche:** I'M NOT. I'm just - uh - _just gimme your computer!_

**A3:** NO! LEGGO! RAWR

**Gavroche:** Don't worry, readers! Enjolras taught me well! I'm gonna take you out of the hands of this crazy, irresponsible girl and make sure you get what you, the people of France, DESERVE!

**A3:** What? They're not French! GET OFF MY LAPTOP

**Gavroche:** FREEDOM AND QUICK UPDATES FOR EVERYONE

**A3:** _IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT I NEED AN EDUCATION YOU LITTLE BRAT_


	9. A Criminal Escapes

**KINDA LONG AND SORTA APOLOGETIC OPENING AUTHORESSIAL NOTE:** (Snarfs White Castle hamburgers) HI KIDS, I'M BACK! I bet you thought I was dead. Well, news flash! I'm NOT dead! I'm just going to college. FULL-TIME college. Like, I'm living there and EVERYTHING. Well, to clarify, I'm living in HOUSING. The actual COLLEGE is a 15-minute trek down a Hill of Death on a path that was clearly designed by someone far too invested in Mario Kart.

So, to sum up, even though I may LOOK dead due to an unhealthy diet of ham sandwiches, chili fries, and way too much soda/coffee/oversugared tea/energy drinks along with a ridiculously active schedule, I am not actually planning on dying anytime soon – though to be honest, it's not really something that you PLAN, but that's kind of a depressing train of thought and let's not go down that path if we can avoid it! Instead, let it be known that though the past month of my life has been swamped by pre-orientation, normal orientation, class, homework, and repeated treks into the outside world that involved almost being drowned/swept away by torrential rain – I'M BACK

It also helps that I am avoiding reading my English homework and writing a paper for another class. AREN'T YOU PROUD OF ME? No, don't be. Do as I say kids, not as I do. Or don't! I'm not your mother. That would be strange and creepy.

**Disclaimer:** I OWN NOTHING OKAY, I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS THAT I PUT ONTO PAPER INSTEAD OF EATING THEM OR DROWNING A PILLOW IN THEM WITH MY TEARS

* * *

It was touch and go for a week after that. In between comforting a worried Cosette and watching over Javert in his hospital room, Valjean managed to pay attention to the news. The robbery and hostage situation was all over the television and the internet, but what had really managed to captivate the public's attention was the story written by one Thenardiér. This story claimed that the entire scenario had been a publicity stunt for the local police force – that Javert had deliberately drawn Rendalt into the bank and staged the entire thing, that his injuries were a front, and that no one had ever been in danger the entire time. Naturally, this enraged Valjean.

What was on the TV now both enraged and frightened him.

Javert woke up to the sound of a chair falling over and an explosive "WHAT THE _HELL_!" issued in a familiar voice.

"God is listening," he murmured, only half-awake.

"Javert?! You're awake! Hold on, I'm calling a nurse." There came the sound of footsteps crossing the room towards the door.

"There's a button f' that," Javert slurred, being vaguely annoyed at himself for it.

"Not taking any chances," came the faint response from the hallway. There was the quiet _click_ of the door shutting, and Javert was alone in a room that was entirely silent apart from the noise issuing from the TV. Trying to swim out from under the influence of the drugs in his system, Javert lay quietly and listened to the announcer talk.

After a few seconds, his eyes opened.

After a few more seconds, there were all sorts of machines going off as he forced himself into a seated position and began to wrestle with blankets in an attempt to get out of bed.

Yet a few more seconds passed, and then the door to his hospital room was flying open and he was being wrestled back into bed by three nurses (two of them male) while Valjean and a doctor demanded to know exactly what he thought he was doing.

"He's out," Javert gasped, his exertions having been too much too soon in his current situation. "He's out of jail – I have to go – "

"Javert, you're letting the drugs get to your head. You can't _go after_ anyone, you've been _shot_. Javert, lie down. _Lie down_, Javert!"

Javert emitted a few choice words. "He's OUT, Valjean! He's _out_ and he's – he's not stable, he's _not stable_, _dammit_ Valjean _let me go_!"

"Javert, calm down! You have to _lie down_! What do you mean, he's 'not stable?'"

Finally back in the hospital bed but being pinned down by one of the remaining male nurses and Valjean, Javert glared up at the latter.

"I _mean_ that what we are dealing with is a man who started out with minor theft and vandalism, was forcibly escalated to major theft and the threat of human lives, and is now out and looking for revenge!"

Valjean shook his head. "You don't know – "

Javert snarled at him. "Don't I? Escaping this soon, he's still angry and he's still focused. The details are fresh in his mind. If he gets ahold of a weapon, he's going to become very dangerous very quickly." He abruptly subsided under the hands of Valjean and the nurse. "Valjean, he might go after Cosette."

Valjean froze, but only briefly. Shaking his head, he sat back down in the chair he had occupied earlier.

"No, you're just trying to get rid of me so that you can break out of here and go after him. I'm not going to – "

"_Valjean_." The male nurse moved forward with a start of alarm as Javert made to get up again, but all the inspector did was prop himself up on one arm as he fixed Valjean with a serious stare. "I give you my word that I will not leave this hospital."

Valjean blinked, startled. He had never before needed Javert's word on anything; he implicitly trusted the man simply due to Javert's innate _nature_. To his knowledge, the man had never lied, not even to a criminal.

So he quietly said "alright," stood up, and left the hospital.

He was pulling into their driveway by the time he'd thought it through enough to realize that Cosette's face and location hadn't been the one broadcasted all over the news.

* * *

**A3:** Aaahhh I'm sorry. Yes, it's a short chapter and STILL ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER. Throw your tomatoes. *Throws jacket to floor, exposing Batman shirt-clad chest* DO YER WORST

Seriously, though. I'm gonna get better at this updating thing. Just... please excuse me for a wee little bit while I write 4-6 pages' worth of papers (not all the same paper) and MAINTAIN.

Totally gonna get this done, you guys. No worries. I have too many Les Mis fic ideas that I wanna work on, and I'm not letting myself until I finish THIS. Now please excuse me while I go wash my shirt; tomatoes don't agree with it.


End file.
